


Christmas Symphony

by writeranthea



Category: 18th Century CE RPF, Historical RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Christmas Fluff, First Kiss, First Meetings, Flirting, Getting Together, Love at First Sight, M/M, One Shot, Short & Sweet, Strangers to Lovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-24
Updated: 2019-12-24
Packaged: 2021-02-26 07:09:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21769663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writeranthea/pseuds/writeranthea
Summary: Berlin, 1740. August Ferdinand beckoned him to lean closer; Friedrich shook his head, but obeyed with a smile, and the boy cupped his hands around Friedrich’s ear as he whispered, “The man that Maman is talking to, that is Signore Casanova.”
Relationships: Giacomo Casanova/Friedrich II von Preußen | Frederick the Great
Comments: 4
Kudos: 16





	Christmas Symphony

**Author's Note:**

> Merry Christmas to you all! :-) You can listen to the masterpiece that Friedrich composed himself [here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=quMLc04GDBA) (also, tell me if I'm the only one that got a _strong_ Mozart vibe from it).
> 
> This is cheesy. It's so, so cheesy... but hell, it made a nice prompt for a Christmas story xD
> 
> Not betaed, all mistakes are mine.
> 
> A/N: I posted this story on AO3. If you see it on any other website or platform, please consider that I did not consent to it.

_“Friedrich!”_

Friedrich smiled to himself as he looked out of the window of his carriage and saw that they were approaching Mobijou palace, despite the fact that he had been told so roughly five minutes ago by one of the guards that rode alongside the carriage. There had been a time in his life when he had been anything but excited to see his mother as for had seen what she had done as a betrayal for many years, and it had only been when Friedrich Wilhelm had been on his deathbed that Friedrich and his mother had managed to talk about it.It was not a lie when he said that he could since understand her actions, why she had gone behind Friedrich Wilhelm’s back to continue the negotiations with her family in England even though she had been clearly aware that it would enrage the notorious king of Prussia - and thus would condemn Friedrich to be the main victim of Friedrich Wilhelm’s abuse. Staying away from the Christmas celebrations had been easy for him after he had been forced to marry Elisabeth Christine, that damned woman, and had thus been the only good thing that had come out of the marriage.

Much to his father’s dismay, Friedrich was anything but religious and his work had always been a trustworthy excuse for him to use if he had felt no desire to join the festivities. He drummed his fingers onto the case that he was holding in his lap. It had been just that flute that had caused so much trouble in his life, it had drawn his father’s unshared attention onto him and in 1730, it had been the flute that had brought him and Katte together after the lieutenant had heard him playing in the gardens of Königs Wusterhausen one night. Back then, he had not known that this single, fateful night had already sealed Katte’s fate.

Friedrich shook his head, thinking about Katte was the last thing he wanted then that the carriage was moving onto the courtyard of Monbijou. Yes, the flute had brought great trouble and grief into his life but after all, it had been the music that had saved him in the end. If he would not have had his music, if he would not have been able to scribble his first real tries of symphonies in his cell in Küstrin, where he had been forced to linger for more than two years, on the back of parchments that he had been supposed to use for his work, Friedrich would have ended his life. His music had somewhat saved him after Katte’s execution and it was his music that made him feel less lonely in his private apartments of the palace in Potsdam. While he, on one hand, still held onto the memories that he had with his beloved Katte, Friedrich never would have said no if a chance of getting close with another would present itself to him. He was lonely, whether he had his music or not. 

Despite it being barely past five, what a look at his pocket watch had told him, the sky was already dark and hung with such heavy clouds that it made a view of the stars impossible. Friedrich would not go so far as to say that he detested the wintertime, but he was far from appealed by it. The cold temperatures and the almost depressingly short days only reminded him of his time in Küstrin, of the many nights that he had spend crying over the image of Katte losing his head in front of his own eyes but he shook his head as the carriage came to a halt, as if the gesture could banish those thoughts out of his mind. Friedrich knew how much it would worry his mother if he would let his grief about it be shown and since she was not of best health, he never would have dared to be so selfish and not try to keep it in him. In the end, the fact that Katte was long gone would not change if he would spend his time crying over it. He missed him and he would probably miss him for the rest of his time... but his life was no longer as dark, not even during the wintertime.

“Your Majesty.”

There was no crowd of courtiers awaiting him in the courtyard as he took the two steps out of the carriage - just as he had requested it to be done. The rules of court protocol annoyed him to no end most of the time. Friedrich nodded into the direction of the guard that had opened the carriage’s door for him before he had set out into the direction of the palace, the case with his flute in his right hand while he held his left behind his back. He was greeted by the pair of guards that stood by the entrance door with an unison “Your Majesty” and he, once more, only nodded as he stood by and waited for them to open the double-winged door. Coming to Monbijou had always felt more as if he was coming home than it had felt with any other of the estates that belonged to his family.

“Friedrich!” He had just crossed the entrance hall when he heard the calling of his name accompanied by fast footsteps resounding, and had known what to expect before the head of red hair had came into sight. “Friedrich, you are here!” Placing the case with his flute onto a small side table, he braced himself for the footsteps that were nearing in on him at a rapid speed. While Wilhelmine was his favorite out of all his sisters, August Ferdinand was his favorite brother. The boy had been just nine when Friedrich Wilhelm had succumbed to his many illnesses seven months ago and Friedrich was uttermost grateful about it, as August Ferdinand was so much like himself that the boy surely would have suffered as much as he had been forced to do it. “You came!”

He could not do but smile when he saw how his youngest brother was hasting down the grand escalier to reach him, his freckled face flushed pink and his red curls bouncing. It was a wonder, really, how someone that was the perfect replica of Friedrich Wilhelm could be so different at the same time. Friedrich crouched down and spread his arms, his smile turning into a grin. “I promised you that I would - oof!” The air was pretty much knocked out of his lungs when August Ferdinand jumped into his arms, slung his own arms around Friedrich’s neck and giggled like a child was supposed to be doing it. Oh, how grateful he was that their father had died before he had gotten the chance to ruin the boy’s life as well.

“I missed you.”

“And I missed you, August.” It was no lie, he had missed him. Sophie Dorothea and him had already talked about whether Friedrich ought to take August Ferdinand to Potsdam with him, considering that he was the closest thing the boy had to a father, but they had not set anything into motion yet. He allowed his eyes to close for a moment as he hugged his brother close to him, running a hand over his back. “Have you been good?”, he asked after he had pulled back to get a better look at him, smirking when August Ferdinand nodded and grinned.

“I have, Maman said so herself!”

“Did she now?” Friedrich already knew that she did, their mother was most proud of him. With August Wilhelm having stepped into the footsteps of Friedrich Wilhelm when it came to his behaviour and Heinrich rather fond of their mother as well as Friedrich himself, young August Ferdinand was, more or less, their only hope. Since Friedrich would not father any children, August Ferdinand would take his place on the throne once his time will be over. He ran his hand through his brother’s hair, “Where are they?”

“In the salon, Maman told me not to look for you but I...”

The young boy trailed off, biting his bottom lip as if he caught himself from blurting out a lie and Friedrich cocked an eyebrow. “Do go on.”

“I wanted to see if you have a present for me.”

He knew that he probably should not have done it, but he snorted and eventually fell into a laughter while August Ferdinand’s cheeks gained colour. “August, you already know that the gift giving will take place tonight.”

“But it is already dark, Friedrich!”

Shaking his head, he ran his hand trough the boy’s hair again. He was so, so incredibly glad that at least his brother had been granted the chance to act like a child. If Friedrich would have dared to behave around their father in such a way, his face would have been beaten blue and green. “I do have presents for you, of course,” he reassured his brother. “And I am certain that you will be very happy with them.”

“Oh? What is it?”

Friedrich’s laughter was of such a true nature that it seemed to fill out the entrance hall. “You ought to _wait_ , you little brat, or you will not be getting anything at all.” It was a lie, of course - he knew how horrible it was to sit by and watch others being given lovely gifts while all he got was another beating. August Ferdinand huffed and crossed his arms in front of his chest, but it was easy to see that it was in pretentious defiance. “Come now,” Friedrich said, kissing the top of the boy’s head full of ginger curls. “I am certain that they are awaiting me.” He allowed his brother to grasp at one of his hands with both of his smaller ones, not able to care less about the dozen breaches of protocol that had taken place in the last two minutes or so and as they walked towards the wing of the palace that housed the ballroom, he remembered something else. “How is your teacher, August. Is he better than your last one?”

One of the first things that Friedrich had done after Friedrich Wilhelm had died had been to dismiss the teacher that his father had chosen for August Ferdinand. The one time that he had witnessed, by coincidence, how that old Huguenot bastard had whipped his brother’s backside with a martinet had been more that he had needed to see in order to get him dismissed - and the fact that Friedrich Wilhelm had given out the clear instruction for the teacher to punish August Ferdinant with such barbaric methods. He could not fathom how anyone in their right mind could have it in them to beat a child that simply did not know better, and since he knew that his mother thought so as well Friedrich had trusted her with the task of finding the right teacher for the young boy.

“Oh Friedrich, Signore Casanova is so nice!”

“Is he?”

August Ferdinand nodded vehemently, “He never yells at me and he does not hit me either.”

Friedrich nodded as well. “That is a good thing to hear.”

“Maman likes him, too.” Now _that_ was something that Friedrich could not classify and while he knew that his brother certainly had not meant it in the way that his mind was working around it, he did not know whether to laugh or grimace. Not that he would not be happy for his mother, who, in his eyes, was somewhat of a miracle for having lived through the many years of marriage with Friedrich Wilhelm, but considering the teacher... What could his mother want from an old savant? “Signore Casanova always says that I am one of the brightest students he ever taught, Friedrich.”

“I am very proud of you.” He looked down at August Ferdinand at the same time that his brother raised his head and when they smiled at each other, Friedrich knew that he did not merely imagined the glimmer in the boy’s eyes. August Ferdinand hummed a tune that Friedrich could not identify and almost skipped as they walked through the corridor, and the closer they got to the ballroom, the more they could hear the laughters, chatters and the soft music.

The guards that stood on each side of the ballroom’s door bowed, greeted Friedrich with a “Your Majesty” and moved to open the door for him.

He did not let go of his brother’s hand. The room fell silent as he and August Ferdinand entered the room, the crowd splitting apart to form a passage for them to walk through. Sophie Dorothea had really given her all to plan it, down to the small candles in front of the mirrors the decoration was very festive. He could not wait until it would only be him and his closest family that would have the room for themselves. Friedrich acknowledge the greetings and praises to his name he received by turning and nodding his head - and nearly groaned when he remembered something. “August?”

“Yes?”

“Would you go back and get my flute? I left it lying on a side table.”

“Of course!” Some noblewomen awed when the boy ran off and Friedrich watched him for a moment before he set into motion again and crossed the room to where his mother was sitting on a couch, flanked by a woman from her entourage and a young man, latter which Friedrich had never seen before.

“Mon petit.”

“Maman.”

He kissed the back of her hand before leaning down to haste a kiss onto her cheek as well, “How good it is to see you.”

“I can only say the same about you, my son.”

The woman to Sophie Dorothea’s right greeted him next, with a bow and a clearly-spoken “Your Majesty”, and the mysterious young man to his mother’s left did the same. As embarrassing as it was: Friedrich found himself unable to look away because oh, he was absolutely beautiful. 

If he were to guess, he would have said that the man could only barely be older than twenty. The man’s hair was opulent enough for him to not require a wig, his skin flawless and touched with just the slightest bit of colour... Friedrich needed to clear his throat to pull himself out of his almost lustful thinking and back into the there and then, clearing his throat once more as he moved away to sit down in the throne-like chair that had been set out for him. On the sign of his hand the music began anew and the chatters and laughters returned, allowing him to let out a low sigh. He truly could not have done but to look at the man again, who had since fallen back into a conversation with Sophie Dorothea - but what really robbed him of his breath was the fact that he had last felt like this a decade ago, so enticed by the man he yet needed to have a simple conversation with. It was thanks to August Ferdinand that Friedrich managed to pull himself away from the image of the man sitting so close beside him, for the boy returned, carrying the case as if it was the most precious thing he had ever held in his hands.“Thank you, August.”

His brother sat down on a chair beside him, swinging his legs as he watched the festivities. “Friedrich?”

“Yes.”

August Ferdinand beckoned him to lean closer and Friedrich shook his head, but obeyed with a smile, and the boy cupped his hands around Friedrich’s ear as he whispered. “The man that Maman is talking to, that is Signore Casanova.”

He could not have kept the sound of surprise in as he sat back upright, looking at the boy who only nodded to underline what he had said. _That_ was supposed to be his brother’s teacher? It would have been an understatement if he would have said that he was not utterly dumbstruck. How can a man so young be a prince’s teacher? _“_ _Maman likes him, too.”_ Friedrich felt a strange feeling spreading out through the pit of his stomach when he saw how his mother put her hand onto the man’s forearm as she was being shaken with laughter. Could it be that...? No, he refused to believe it. If he had guessed his age right the man was younger than half of Sophie Dorothea’s children, and his mother certainly would not...

“I feared that I forgot to introduce myself to Your Majesty. I apologise.” Friedrich had been so lost in his thought that he had failed to notice how the teacher had stood and had moved until he had came to stand in front of him and when the teacher’s words, figuratively speaking, shook him, the first thing his eyes fell on were legs. Long, and incredibly lean legs. _Goddamn it, Fritz_.

He cleared his throat, “Ah yes.”

The man smiled, _with twin dimples for the sake of God_ , and bowed his head slightly as he spoke. “Giacomo Casanova, Her Majesty the Queen Mother had chosen me to teach the young prince. A very enjoyable task I must say, Your Majesty.” The man - Giacomo - winked at August Ferdinand, who giggled where he sat beside his older brother, before he looked at Friedrich again, still smiling all so beautifully.

He wanted him, and oh he wanted him badly. “I am glad to hear that you are enjoying your duties,” he eventually retorted, forcing himself to a smile while his heart was beating strong enough for him to feel it in his throat. “If I may ask you a question, Signore,” he cleared his throat, “how old are you?”

Giacomo laughed as if he had expected to be asked just that. “I happen to be twenty-three, Your Majesty.”

Older than Friedrich had expected him to be, but still too young to be in the position of a teacher. Sophie Dorothea joined in to the conversation before he could have asked another question. “Do not doubt Signore Casanova, mon cœr. He is an excellent teacher for his age, you ought to see him and August together.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty.”

“I was not doubting him, Maman,” Friedrich hurried to say, especially when he saw how Giacomo’s smile faltered a bit. “I was simply appreciating what can be done at such a young age.”

While Giacomo’s smile had faltered, it was back within a second and accompanied by the faintest bit of colour on his cheeks. Friedrich really had to control himself in order to not just pull him down into a kiss. “Thank you, Your Majesty.”

Whether it was a coincidence or not, but their eyes locked and steadily kept each other for a good few seconds as Giacomo slowly turned around in order to walk back to the couch he had been sitting on before. Mulled wine was passed out in cups instead of glasses, a Christmas tradition that had established itself in their family and one that Friedrich had not wanted to get rid of. The wine was delicious and warmed him from the inside but what had truly caused his face to heat up was the way that every time he would turn his head to look at Giacomo, Giacomo was looking at him as well. They both hurried to look away once their gazes met, of course, but every look they shared send another hot wave through Friedrich’s body. He wanted him and albeit he knew close to nothing about him, he had already decided that he would not depart from Monbijou without having kissed him.

Friedrich sipped at his steaming drink, watched the crowd of courtiers enjoying himself and yearned for the later hours of the evening, when the room would be nearly empty and he around the people that he did not need to keep a mask on for, when he could pick up his flute and play his newest symphony. He had not needed to wait for long; the room began to empty out when the clock hit nine and he smiled at the gasp that August Ferdinand let out at the sight of the Christmas tree and presents being carried in by an entire flock of servants. Friedrich heaved himself out of his chair with a pretentious sigh, “I apologise, but you will be forced to listen to me before you get to unpack your presents, August.”

That Giacomo had stayed while the other guests had left, Friedrich did not comment on. He would have asked him to stay if he would have tried to leave. The handful of his siblings that still lived at Sophie Dorothea’s court came together, eagerness in all of their eyes. He tried not to be too aware of Giacomo’s presence and the fact that Giacomo was unmistakably watching him as he opened the case of his flute and locked the pieces of the instrument together. “Take your time, mon petit. They can surely wait for a bit longer.

“Maman!”, his siblings almost exclaimed in an unison whine and Friedrich shook his head, a bit in disbelief that their first Christmas without Friedrich Wilhelm was already better than any of the prior ones.

He gave a sign to the musicians in the far back fo the room, who signed that they were ready themselves by nodding. Drawing in a deep breath to steady himself, Friedrich moved a bit further into the room - the only reason for his nervousness was the blond, _Giacomo_ , that was sitting there beside his mother. He had anything but expected for August Ferdinand’s teacher to be like _him_ , really, had expected to meet anything but a man that he could imagine sharing a bed with and when he dared to take another look into Giacomo’s direction, the same feeling returned to his chest. A decade had passed since he had last felt it and he needed to admit that he did not know how to properly deal with it. _With him._ If he would tell him, the chance that Giacomo would accept it only because he was the king and one does not deny a king’s wish were high. Friedrich was not eager to simply have someone in his favour, what he wanted was someone who desired to be close with him, too. He had been certain that he had found that someone in Katte...

Forcing himself to push that thought away, Friedrich lifted the mouthpiece to his lips and waited until the violin played the first few notes before he set in. There was no need for him to look at the notes in front of him. He knew them all by heart - he had written them himself, after all, and while he kept his eyes closed to concentrate on nothing but the music, Friedrich believed that he could feel Giacomo’s gaze on him during the entire duration of the small concert. _Oh he wanted him, and he wanted him badly_. His heart was soaring as he dragged out the last note of hy symphony as much as he only could and was rewarded with applause. Sure, he enjoyed the applause he got during his concert in Potsdam as well but to hear it from members of his family was something that Friedrich appreciated the most. _See, Father. You failed to turn them all against me._

Sophie Dorothea seemed to be downright rapturous and he allowed her to hug him, her eyes tear-filled as she pulled back. “You played so beautifully, mon petit.”

“Thank you, Maman.” He smiled at her when she patted his cheek before she returned to her seat.

“Can we have our presents now?”, August Ferdinand asked, pushing out his bottom lip and looking up at Friedrich with what could only have been described as a perfect puppy-eyes expression. “Please?”

“If you do not-”

“Let him be, Maman,” Friedrich interrupted his mother, who had been about to scold his youngest brother, and Sophie Dorothea merely shook her head, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. Yes, ever since Friedrich Wilhelm had died their family has gotten a lot more peaceful. Giacomo, who since had to leave his place beside the Queen Mother, smiled as he took another sip from his spiced wine and Friedrich was definitely not looking at the way that he licked his lips as he lowered his glass. “I do have a special present for you, August, for which I will need to leave for a moment to get it.”

The boy’s eyes widened and his mouth formed into an o-shape as he clapped his hands just once, “You do?”

“Indeed, yes.” Friedrich stayed until the first round of presents was given out to the children before he stole himself away to find the guard that he had ordered to wait for him.

He found him at the end of the corridor, holding a box that was covered with a piece of satin fabric. “Your Majesty.” The small sound that came from the box when Friedrich took it made him smile, eager for his brother’s reaction, and he thanked the guard with a nod of his head prior to turning on his heels and marching back towards the ballroom. He could hear his siblings’ laughter in the corridor, incredibly glad that he had decided to come to Berlin and, once more, very thankful for his father’s death. Was it impiously? Friedrich did not care and he knew that he was far from the only that did not mourn Friedrich Wilhelm’s loss. In fact, Sophie Dorothea had worn black solely for the occasion of his funeral and only because it would have sparked a scandal if she would not have done so. All eyes were on him as the door of the ballroom was opened for him to enter, and the smile on Friedrich’s face only widened when he saw how August Ferdinand was practically bouncing where he was sitting on the ground, surrounded by their siblings who were all very busy to find out what they had been gifted with.

“Come here.” As the boy hurried to get onto his feet, Friedrich’s eyes were drawn to Giacomo. Whether it was due to the warmth of the room or the wine, he did not know, but the younger man’s cheeks had gained a pink hue which was more adorable than it should have been and when Giacomo turned his head, Friedrich quickly looked away again, feeling heat rise into his own face. _How embarrassing, Fritz_. He crouched down once August Ferdinand came to stand in front of him, earning him the attention of the adults as well. “You will need to be quiet, alright?” The boy’s brows pulled together in apparent, but he nodded nonetheless and with that Friedrich pulled the satin cloth back, revealing what he had brough from Potsdam. August Ferdinand gasped and quickly clasped his hands over his mouth as his eyes, almost comically wide, switched between Friedrich and the content of the box, where a small brown puppy was looking at him with a wagging tail. “He is yours. You need to take good care of him, August.”

“Mine?”

Friedrich’s smile widened, “Get him out.”

The boy gasped yet again as he carefully wrapped his hands around the slim body of the puppy to lift it out of the box, hugging it against him. “Thank you,” his brother whispered and Friedrich was honestly touched when he saw the tears that were swimming in his eyes. He knew how much August Ferdinand had wished for a Windspiel. He turned to hand the then empty box to one of the servants while his brother hasted to Sophie Dorothea to show her his gift. “He is mine, Maman. Look!”

Friedrich stood, with his arms held behind his back, and watched how his brother set the puppy down onto the marble floor to chase it around the spacious room. While he watched August Ferdinand, the caught himself catching a glimps at Giacomo from the corners of his eyes every now and then. He was utterly beautiful, the way that he was moving his body naturally elegant and if it would have been possible, Friedrich would have walked over to him to pull him into a kiss. He did not know where the courage had come from, but he did eventually manage to walk to where Giacomo was bound in a conversation. “Signore.”

The younger man made a surprised sound and hurried to step aside, “Your Majesty.”

“Maman, may I ask you how you found him?”

Sophie Dorothea winked at him and he, for a moment, wondered whether she could sense his attraction to the Italian. “Signore Casanova is well known in northern Italy,” she answered, “his father, Gaetano, is known for his writings.”

“I was not aware of that.”

“You do prefer French over Italian, mon petit.”

Giacomo laughed at Sophie Dorothea’s words and actually threw his head back as he did so, drawing Friedrich’s entire attention onto him. “I would like to talk to you, Signore. Alone.” He had said it before his mind had even caught up and when not only his mother but Giacomo as well turned their heads to look at him, he was certain that his face was burning red.

“May I ask what for, Your Majesty.”

“To... discuss the syllabus.”

Giacomo nodded, emptied the remaining spiced wine from his glass and set it down onto a servant’s tray. _Oh God._ “Follow me, then,” Friedrich said after swallowing hards, holding his hands behind his back where their unsteadiness went by unnoticed and he waited until Giacomo had reached his side before he set into motion, leading them out of the ball room. He asked Giacomo to tell him how August Ferdinand’s studies were going despite the fact that it was anything but interesting for him in that moment, but he still nodded his head as he listened to Giacomo’s report. It was heartwarming to see how well his brother and the young teacher worked together.

Friedrich knew very well that this was a “now or never” moment, really, so when they walked around yet another corner of the seemingly endlessly long corridor, he decided to act accordingly. Giacomo was praising August Ferdinand for his stark interest in the Italian language when Friedrich stepped in front of him, took his face into his hand and kissed him. He had expected Giacomo to push him away and to snarl at him in disgust, but all the younger man did was to move his lips with mirroring motions, allowing him to deepen the kiss. They both gasped as they broke apart for no longer than a second, just enough time to draw in a bit of air before their lips found each other again. Friedrich was breathing heavily as they parted for good and Giacomo, whose face had gained a bright pink hue, took a step backwards while looking at the ground.

“I - Your Majesty, I...”

Hearing someone addressing him with _Your Majesty_ had never felt more wrong and Friedrich, with his heart racing, reached out for one of Giacomo’s hands that were hanging at his side. It was clear that the Italian was struggling with himself. Understandably so, considering that Friedrich had kissed him out of thin air. “I will not force you,” he said with a voice barely above a whisper, “I understand if you are not... interested.”

“Interested?” Giacomo’s voice was laced with honest confusion and much to Friedrich’s relief, he did not pull his hand away when he laced their fingers together.

“You are so beautiful,” he went on, still whispering, “and I...”

“You Majesty.”

“Friedrich.”

“I apologise Your Majesty, but I do not -”

“Call me Friedrich.”

Something inside of Giacomo’s mind seemed to have come together after he had said that. “I thought that I merely imagined you looking at me, Your - _Friedrich_ ,” Giacomo corrected himself, a bit more color rising into his cheeks when Friedrich took another step closer to him.

“I thought so as well.” One further step and they stood close enough to each other for the tips of their shoes to touch. “Will you accept my offer?” He squeezed the younger man’s and when Giacomo’s face was slowly lit up by a smile, Friedrich felt his heart soar.

“I will if you promise to court me well.”

Returning a smile, he leaned in to kiss him again, that time much less rushed than the first time. Giacomo’s lips were soft and tasted like the spiced wine that he had drunk before. “Merry Christmas, Giacomo.”

“Merry Christmas to you too, Friedrich,” was whispered against his lips and when Friedrich let go of Giacomo’s hand to close his arms around him, he knew he had made the right decision to accept his mother’s invitation.

_Fin._


End file.
